Resident Evil: Code Buffy
by Sue Donym
Summary: Buffy and a Resident Evil character (it's a surprise) team up to fight the evil Umbrella Corporation. I welcome all critiques -- it's my first fic!
1. Chapter 1

"Dawn, I want these dishes clean by the time I get back!" Buffy called out as she walked into the Summers' sun-lit kitchen, dressed in a black skirt and a white blouse.  Her heeled shoes clicked on the tile floor.

            "How long do you think your interview will take?" came the disembodied reply from the living room.  Dawn, Buffy's teenaged sister, was lounging on the couch, watching TV.  

_Strategic ignoring of chore mentioning_, Buffy thought, _so not going to help._"Can't say for sure.  I guess as long as it takes to convey to the interviewer that I'm a hard-working, responsible employee, who's not at all prone to leaving my post at the drop of a hat for world saveage, and please, please, please hire me or else me and my dependent sister will starve?  Dishes, Dawn.  Clean dishes are a good thing."

"Okay, Martha, I'll do the dishes," Dawn said, strolling into the kitchen, where Buffy was putting on her official job interview earrings.  "Hey, after the interview, which you're totally going to ace, can we go see a movie or something?  My summer vacation is rapidly becoming a blurry nightmare of endless Road Rules marathon-watching."

Buffy, walking into the entrance hall to check the mirror, tossed a smirk at her sister.  "We'll see.  If this interview doesn't go well, even watching a shirtless Vin Diesel play spy won't be able to take my mind off the vast emptiness that is our family coffer."

Buffy evaluated her appearance in the mirror with the ruthless scrutiny of a former fashion plate.  Clothes, earrings, makeup …classic, neat, scream responsibility, yes, all of the good.  Buffy felt a quick pang of nervousness in her midsection.  Sometimes she wondered how she could fight all manner of evil things with cool, steely resolve, but go all clammy hands and butterfly stomachy over a job interview.  Wouldn't it be embarrassing if that third-time's-the-charm death occurred in some tastefully decorated personnel office somewhere, her having keeled over from the stress of having to name her worst flaw?  That'd probably be a first in Slayer history.  And, anyway, why couldn't the interviewer just _sense _that she was a good person who deserved a non-fast-food-serving, non-soul-deadening job?  Why did there have to be questions and noncommittal mm-hmms and talking about yourself using only action words?

"What company is this interview for again?" Dawn asked from the kitchen.  She was currently foraging for something to eat but, due to the aforementioned broke-ness, she wasn't finding much.    

"Some company that just opened a new place in Sunnydale.  Umbrella Corporation.  They have a lot of positions open.  I'm applying for a security position."

Dawn raised her eyebrows at that.  "Security, huh?  I thought it'd be a clerical job or something."

"Well, I figured, what with the Slayer strength and all, I could handle whatever kind of security situation they could throw at me.  Barring hellgods, maybe."  Buffy glanced at the clock.  "Okay, I've gotta get going.  Dishes, yes?"  She paused, then said, "Oh, and go ahead and look up the movie times.  I think today should be Vin day after all."

Dawn grinned.  She had predicted that Buffy would be unable to resist the lure of inexplicably attractive machismo that was The Diesel.  "Good luck in the interview!"

Buffy picked up her keys and purse, smiled at her sister, and walked out the door.   


	2. Chapter 2

_2 weeks later…_

Buffy Summers, Umbrella Corporation's newest employee, entered the Security Department via a glass door, located on the first floor of the building.  She checked out the room that was to be her new workplace.  One whole side of the wall, opposite the door where she had entered, was covered with security monitors, which appeared to be surveying every section of the building.  Four men and one woman, all dressed in the same security uniform, one light-blue sleeve emblazoned with the Umbrella logo, were seated at the long desk that was in front of the monitors.  Buffy herself was dressed in the same thankfully-not-bright-orange uniform.  In the middle of the room was a large desk, where another man in uniform sat.  The name placard on his desk indicated that this was the man she sought.  She approached him, smiling.  

"Mr. Pritchett?  Hi, I'm Buffy Summers.  I'm your new security assistant."  

Mr. Pritchett, Chief of Security for the Sunnydale branch of the Umbrella Corporation, stood up, smiled, and shook Buffy's hand.  He was 46 years old, a bit pudgy, and with an affable, forgettable face.  "Ah, yes.  Miss Summers.  Good to meet you."  He looked at her for a moment.  "Well, you are a tiny thing, aren't you.  Not the usual type we get working in here.  What's your experience with security, if you don't mind my asking?"  

Battling the forces of darkness for the last seven years wasn't exactly something you could put on your resume, but Buffy had been able to fudge a bit about her experience, with the help of glowing references from Giles and Anya.  Plus, she had passed her defense skills test with flying colors, so she had been hired pretty quickly.

Buffy smiled cheerily at her supervisor.  "I worked a, uh, private security job for a local shop for the past couple years, and I've taken a lot of self-defense and martial arts classes.  I've never worked for a large company as a security assistant, but I'm pretty good with my hands, and I have… people skills."  Buffy mentally cringed.  How she had grown to loathe that phrase.  "Don't worry, Mr. Pritchett, I'll be able to handle myself in tense situations, and emergencies, and whatever you throw at me."  

"Well, Miss Summers, I'm glad to hear that.  See, security isn't just throwing angry people out the front door, like you see in movies.  That's only a small part of the job.  Ninety percent of a security detail is observation.  Watching for suspicious activities, making sure everyone follows the rules, that sort of thing.  Now, here at Umbrella, we do get more activity that your average company since this is a research facility.  At the facility I used to work at back east, we'd get animal rights activists, anti-genetic experimentation folks, the usual suspects, showing up about once a month.  This is a new facility so it might take awhile for word to get around.  So, from time to time, you will have to deal with some irate people, protestors, you know.  Most of the time, though, you'll be watching these security monitors here.  A lot of classified information goes in and out of this place, so you gotta keep an eye out.  Two, even."  Pritchett chuckled at himself.  "Anyway, I try to run a pretty tight ship here, but if you do your job, and get here on time, we won't have any problems.  I'll be showing you the ropes for the next couple of days, but for now, do you have any questions?"

_No more Double Meat Medleys? Color me a happy Buffy, _she thought.  She should think up a question, though.  Curiosity and willingness to learn – that's supposed to impress the boss.  "I'm kinda curious about the research that goes on here.  Do you know anything about it?"

Pritchett nodded.  "A little bit, sure.  Umbrella Corp is mostly known for doin' a lot of medical research, developing pharmaceuticals, and whatnot.  From what I hear, they're working on something really big right now.  Top secret type stuff, so a'course I don't know any details.  But, it might please you to know that you're now working for one of the leading medical research and pharmaceutical companies in the world."

Buffy, mildly for-real interested now, asked, "So some people are against the research that goes on here?"

He paused, then, a little reluctantly it seemed, said, "Yes, and not just your usual anti-research groups.  See, Umbrella had… some problems… at its Midwest facility a couple of years ago.  There was an epidemic of some kind.  I think the town had to be evacuated 'n everything.  A lot of people died.  Damn shame."

Buffy was surprised to hear about this.  She wasn't exactly a habitual newspaper reader but she thought she would've heard something about an epidemic that evacuated a whole town.  

"An epidemic?  Like a virus of some kind?  How did it happen?"  Whoa.  Could something like that happen in Sunnydale?

Mr. Pritchett hastened to reassure her.  "I don't want you to worry about that, Miss Summers.  It was a terrible, terrible accident, what happened there.  There was a mishap in one of the labs, some of the employees were infected, and, well, it went downhill from there.  Apparently, adding insult to injury, the rescue teams that were sent in to help out mishandled the situation pretty badly, so a lot of their people died too.  But since then, Umbrella has really tightened up their regulations and procedures to prevent that sort of thing from happening again.  One thing's for sure, Umbrella has made safety its top priority."

Buffy was still feeling all kinds of uneasy about this.  She'd had no idea that Umbrella did research of the dangerous and icky kind.  If there was one thing Sunnydale didn't need, it was an outbreak of disease.  _Disease-y horseman of the apocalypse, you are not welcome here, _she thought to herself.  Give her vampires and demons any day of the week, but anything that held the possibility of pus and/or flesh-eating bacteria evoked many feelings in oogieness.  She wondered if Xander knew anything about this virus outbreak in… hmm, Pritchett hadn't even said where the epidemic had originated.  Xander hadn't mentioned anything when he was part of the construction crew for the new facility, so maybe the outbreak just hadn't been of the national news variety.  

Umbrella might've cleaned up their act but, just in case, she'd have to keep an eye out.  

_Two, even_, Buffy thought.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of weeks later… 

_Okay, is it twisted that I'm actually hoping that something evil will show up at my place of work?  _Though her Slayer spidey-sense had tingled a bit when she first started at Umbrella, the job had proved to be, ultimately, quite boring.  Buffy twisted her neck to look at the clock on the wall.  9:16 p.m.  Ugh.  She was taking the four to midnight shift this week and it went way, way slower than the day shift, since there were only two other security assistants, Gary and John, there with her.  Right now, Gary was "in the head" as he insisted on terming it, and John was studying for his real estate broker exam.  Well, maybe checking the monitors again would take up about… a minute.

Monitors 1-10… clear.  Monitors 11-20… clear.  Monitors 21-30… imagine that: clear!  How about 31-40?  Yeah.  Clear.

*thud*

Buffy let her forehead drop to the desk at her station.  

John looked up from his studying.  "You okay there, Buffy?"

Buffy, without raising her head from the desk, said, "Yeah, I'm fine, John.  Hey, the wood-like material they use to make this desktop is kinda neat up-close.  Pretty patterns."

"Yeah, yeah.  So the job's a little dull.  But it puts money in the pocket, right?"

Buffy raised her head to look at John.  He was the silver lining sort of guy.  Cute.  She smiled tiredly.  "Yes, for about eight microseconds.  Then it goes into the pocket of the supermarket, the telephone company, the electric company… stupid, lucky corporate pockets."

"That's tough.  I only have to support myself on this salary until I get into real estate, but you gotta look out for your little sis.  Hey, Pritchett seems to like you, though.  I bet you'll have no problem getting your six-month raise."

"I hope you're right.  That means I only have five more months of beating the ends into submission until they meet."

Gary, back from the head, strolled back into the room.  "Anyone check the monitors recently?" 

Gary was slightly senior of Buffy and John, and took it very seriously.  Except when he needed those 30-minute bathroom breaks, of course.  Buffy said, "Yeah, I checked 'em a couple minutes ago.  All clear."

"Well, let's look alive, guys.  Umbrella ain't paying us to chat.  Keep your eyes on those monitors."  Gary went to his station, sat down, propped his feet up on the desk, and promptly let his eyes glaze over.

Buffy and John looked at each other, John went back to his studying, and Buffy - *thud* - let her forehead rest again.


	4. Chapter 4

_A week or so later… sometime past midnight…_

Buffy walked through the cemetery, her stake hand ready and willing.  She was still in her work uniform, having gone straight to patrol from work.  It was a balmy Southern California night, and, so far, a remarkably vampire-free one too.    

"Here, vampires, vampires.  I'm alive, awake, and enthusiastically waiting to slay you."  Talking to herself during patrols helped to keep her occupied when she was alone.  The Scooby gang was operating on a skeleton crew this summer what with all that had gone down this spring.  Giles was back in England, seeing to Willow's recovery.  Anya had disappeared soon after.  Spike was still vampire _in absentia_, which was, you know, good.  So Dawn and Xander were the only ones even in town.  

Tonight, Dawn was taking a break from Buffy's I'm-going-to-show-you-the-world campaign to spend the night at Janice's and Xander had had a long day on his construction site, so he had begged off of patrol.  

Buffy sighed lightly.  She was tired from work, not physically tired, but tired nonetheless.  Adulthood, to be honest, sucked.  Although, compared to this time last summer, Buffy was much alive-er, so progress had been made.  Plus, the thick, fog-like veil of depression had, for the most part, been lifted, so life was sucky only in the general, everybody-feels-this-way sense, rather than the torn-out-of-Heaven sense.

Her work at Umbrella over the past month was, admittedly, boring, but it made her feel strangely content.  Nobody that she worked with was unbearably obnoxious and there was a much-appreciated lack of grease, powdered shake mix, and meat substitute.  She was settling into a fairly doable routine.  She had mornings and afternoons to run errands and spend time with Dawn, sometimes eat lunch with Xander at his site, or even go to the beach.  She went to work, then went on patrol for an hour or two, then came home.  Not bad, all 'n' all.  There had definitely been times in her life when she would have begged for such quiet normalcy.  True, it wasn't an exciting, cosmopolitan life, but it was… hers.  And she was okay.

Enough contemplation.  Time for serious slaying now.  Need something to slay, though - in fact, crucial to serious slaying plan.  Ooh, what was that?  Hearing a noise over on the other side of the cemetery, Buffy went to investigate.  As she approached, she was semi-disappointed to see that it had been a car noise, not an evil noise.  A man had gotten out of his car, and had opened a map onto the hood, where he was perusing it.  She couldn't help but notice that the man was youngish, and… hmm, cute.  Tall, well-built, brown hair cut short.  Looked like maybe he was lost.  Well, was she a Slayer or was she a Slayer?  Time to help mankind.

She deliberately made some noise as she got closer, so as not to startle him.  He looked up.  

"Hi," she said, "looks like you're a little lost.  Do you need some directions?"

The man looked a little surprised that she had approached him.  Guess where he came from young women didn't prowl the streets in the dead of night, seeking to help lost travelers.

"Hi, um, well, actually, I don't think I am lost.  This is Sunnydale, right?" 

"That it is.  You passing through?"

"No, I'm here on business.  I'm a reporter."

"Oh.  Are you going to be doing a hard-hitting investigative report on the strange and nearly simultaneous grand openings of two Starbucks right across the street from each other?"

The man chuckled.  "Well, not exactly, but that might bear some looking into."  He paused, then said, "If you don't mind my asking, do you think it's entirely safe for you to be walking around by yourself at this time of night?  Can I drive you somewhere?"

_Right, because it's so much safer to accept rides from strange, unknown men, _she thought wryly.  "Oh, no, thanks.  I was just on my way home from work.  I'll be fine, really."

He said, a touch uncertainly, "Okay, as long as you're sure."  Then, "Hey, is there a motel in the area?"  

She nodded.  "Sure, go down the street a couple blocks, then hang a left.  The Sunnydale Inn always has a vacancy."  Buffy decided to give the man a heads-up on the Sunnydale nightlife.  Wouldn't want his business trip to be marred by death.  "By the way, if you're out at night, I'd stay away from the cemeteries.  Sunnydale is a small town, but we do have some nasty types, and they, um, tend to hang out in the cemeteries."

"Didn't you just come from the cemetery?"

Oh, yeah, he had seen that.  "Well, yeah, but I -- know my way around.  Anyway, it's just a little warning.  We locals like to keep our visitors safe and sound."  Buffy smiled, hoping he wouldn't take the warning as an aspersion on his manly ability to take care of himself.

He appeared to accept her explanation.  "Okay, thanks.  Better get to that motel; I'm beat.  Thanks for stopping to help me out."  He smiled at her.  A nice smile.

She gave a little wave.  "Take care."

Buffy waited until the car had turned off the street, then went back to the cemetery.  After another half-hour or so, she decided to head home.  Slow night for slayage.  But, hey, fast night for cute reporters.  Maybe she'd see him again.  Not that she was looking for, you know, anything, but it was nice to realize that there might be non-demony type guys out there who, maybe, someday, she'd get to know.  During her... interlude with Spike, she sometimes wondered about that.  It was good to feel optimistic for a change.


	5. Chapter 5

Leon Kennedy opened the door to Room 7 at the Sunnydale Inn, stepped inside with his bags, and shut the door behind him.  Locked it.  He flipped on the light, and looked at his surroundings.  _Yes, this is a motel room, alright_, he thought.  The room looked like it had been ordered from a catalog – we'll take 10 of motel room style 6 in the beige, please.  In fact, the only thing that didn't appear to be motel room standard issue was the crucifix by the doorway.  Interesting, that.  Leon shrugged.  Maybe the owner was devout.  

He put his two bags on the bed.  He opened the smaller bag, which contained his clothes and personal effects.  Everything was neatly folded, just like they taught in the Academy.  Now it was all taken out and neatly hung in the closet or placed neatly next to the bathroom sink.  There was one pair of khakis and a single white button-down shirt.  The rest of the clothes consisted of a couple pairs of sturdily made jeans, a few t-shirts, and a pair of camo pants.  Well-worn combat boots shared the floor of the closet with a pair of dress shoes and a pair of sneakers.  

If a stranger were to look in this closet, they wouldn't immediately guess that Leon was a reporter.  Of course, he wasn't a reporter, but it was a ruse that would serve him well enough.  Despite the blond girl's assertion that Sunnydale had some kind of criminal element, it didn't seem like the kind of place where people were hardened and suspicious.  No, in fact, it seemed like a real friendly place.  Just look at how that girl had offered to help him when she thought he was lost.  

From what little he had learned of Sunnydale so far, it seemed to be the sort of place Leon had hoped to be working in when he had taken a job as a police officer in Raccoon City.  He hadn't had the chance to realize that dream, however.  Instead, what he had experienced there had changed his life, and not in a good way.  Before showing up for his first day of work in Raccoon City, he had been the kind of guy who believed in the good in people.  An unusual trait for a policeman, and one other trainees at the Academy had razzed him about.  That wasn't the kind of man he was anymore, though.  Leon doubted anyone could believe in anything, if they knew what he knew.  

He hoped, by coming here, he could prevent what had happened in Raccoon City from happening in Sunnydale.  This little town didn't deserve to experience the kind of unspeakable horror that he knew existed.  Leon might not ever – truly – recover from his experience, but he still believed there should be places where people could live without the ever-present awareness of… evil.   

Leon paused in his unpacking for a moment, and closed his eyes, reflecting.  He opened them.  He bent down to open his other bag.  Reaching inside, he took out his Desert Eagle .50AE and carefully placed the "hand cannon" on the bedside table.  He next took out his Remington 12-gauge shotgun.  He loaded it with eight rounds and pumped it.  

Holding the big gun, he felt safe.  And he felt ready.  

Ready to take down Umbrella.                                  


	6. Chapter 6

_Later that day…_

"… and so he says to her, I must not like it too much, or else I wouldn't'a married you!"  After laughing uproariously at his own joke for a good 30 seconds, Gary finally settled down, occasionally shaking his head and chuckling at his own comedic brilliance.  Buffy and the new guy, Carl, made polite noises of amusement.

            After a pause, Gary glanced at the clock and said, "Hey, I'm going to the head.  Try not to let any catastrophes happen while I'm gone, eh?"  Chuckled.  Ah, to be so pleased with oneself.

            As the door shut behind Gary, Carl commented, "Well, you have to admire his regularity.  I could set my watch to his bathroom breaks."  Carl had been working the night shift all that week, ever since John stopped showing up for work last Thursday. 

            Buffy made an "eww" face.  "I'd rather not think about the regularity of Gary's bowel movements, thanks."  Then, "I'm going to go ahead and do the rounds early, okay?  You can take the 10 o'clock."

            "Thanks, Buffy."

            "No prob."

            Buffy exited the security room, and headed toward the first checkpoint on her rounds.  She carried a clipboard with some attached forms, on which she had to mark down the times she reached every checkpoint.  When she reached checkpoint 1A, she swiped her identification card through the electronic scanner that was on the wall.  The lock on the door was released, allowing her to enter into the first hallway.  She jostled all the doorknobs along the way, making sure they were locked.  The hallway, like every other hallway in the building, had gray walls and white linoleum floors.  Oh-so-flattering fluorescent lighting completed the anonymous office-building look that Umbrella seemed to be striving for.  At night, the lighting was dimmed to save electricity costs, but the high-pitched buzz from the lights was still noticeably irritating.      

Starting from where security was located, near the main entrance on the first floor, and continuing all the way to the fourth floor, Buffy had to stop at thirty-two checkpoints.  She'd also have to do a sweep of the perimeter, which was another eight checkpoints.  Umbrella had – cutely? annoyingly? – designed the building in the shape of an octagon, in order to correspond with their logo, an eight-sided umbrella icon.  Buffy was biding her time, waiting for the opportunity to say, "Oh, I work at The Octagon.  No, The Octagon – eight sides!"  Good stuff.

            After completing her rounds of the first three floors, she took the stairs to the fourth floor.  Security was even tighter up here since the research laboratories were on the top floor.  Each door she came to required her to swipe her card, and also type in a passcode on the electronic lock.  Buffy figured that Umbrella didn't want their Petri dishes and microscope slides making their escape when the coast was clear.  That, or hey, maybe there's something here that they don't want a lot of people to know about!  No, that couldn't be it.  Large multi-national corporations so rarely commit fraudulent acts or knowingly endanger the… _oh, man, I am NOT going to talk myself into being suspicious, _Buffy thought.  And there absolutely was _not _a creepy, sterile, leaky faucet vibe going on up here.  

            'Kay, a little ridiculous for the Slayer to be suddenly eeked out by the sound of her own footsteps.  She laughed in the face of danger, right?  Or quipped, at least.  _Or hides until it goes away_, said her inner Xander.  She had just about convinced herself of her own fearlessness when, hold on, were those voices?  She stopped.  Yeah, those were voices.  Whisper-y, plotting mischief voices.  She crept up to the door of the room where they seemed to originate from.

            "…once…take virus…never…again…"

            "…cameras…outside…"

            "…do not worry…out…sight"

            "…boss…whatever…"

            The conversation suddenly stopped.  Oh, boy.  This was about the time the conspirators are supposed to throw open the door, catching the eavesdropper by surprise, right?  _Must hide_, Buffy thought.  She quietly sprinted to the next door, swiped her card, typed her code, then closed the door behind her.  Peeping through the glass in the door, she watched as the door opened to reveal two men.  One looked like, whoa, okay, one of them _was_ Gary, of long bathroom break fame.  _Ha!  You thought you could fool me with such a simple ruse but… well, okay, it worked_, Buffy thought ruefully.  The other man she couldn't recognize, as she was only getting a look at the back of his head.  Blondish, slicked-back hair covered the head, that much she could tell – oh, he was turning a little.  Buffy got a glimpse of his face.  Weirdly, the blond man was wearing sunglasses, even though the corridor and the lab from which they had emerged was dark, and they were, well, inside.  _Hmm… sunglasses at night… not just for bad 80's songs anymore, _she thought.The two men were going the opposite way now, back to where the elevators were.  

            Buffy crunched her brow.  Her boring job has suddenly taken a turn for the not-so-boring.  She distinctly heard the words "take" and "virus" in conjunction which she was pretty sure meant the two men hadn't been conspiring to bring about Good Things like world peace or really fantastic summer clearance shoe sales.  Ugh.  _Of all the darkened hallways, in all the towns, in all the world, they walk into mine_, Buffy thought.  Well, Gary and Blondie would soon find out that it was difficult to carry out evil plots with a Slayer on duty.  

Buffy quickly finished her rounds so Carl or Deceitful Gary wouldn't notice that she had been gone longer than usual, all the while mulling over what her next step should be.  She would talk to Xander tomorrow and make with the advice-getting.  Hey, with any luck, Gary and his buddy were just involved in some nice, ordinary, non-Slayer-territory embezzlement or something.  _Sure, the embezzlement of deadly viruses… probably not anything to worry about, _Buffy thought.  Choking on own sarcasm now.  __

_            No, really, there might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the scheming, _said Optimistic Buffy.  After all, at the Double Meat, she had suspected some Soylent Green redux but it had turned out to be the work of your average, every-day penis monster.  So maybe it would turn out to be nothing a little kicky-punchy action couldn't handle.  Could happen.

            Right?

            Anyone?

            Bueller?__


	7. Chapter 7

The next day… 

            Xander, after listening to Buffy recount her story of the night before, chewed his sandwich thoughtfully.  Once again he had globbed on the peanut butter too thickly and it was now threatening to choke him.  He missed Anya's efficiently made sandwiches.  Of course, that wasn't all he missed about his ex-fiancée, but that didn't bear thinking about right now.  Must focus on disaster at hand.  He swallowed.  Thought s'more.  

            Xander pronounced his expert opinion.  "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say "uh-oh" 'cause, gotta tell you, Buff, not liking the sound of the virus-napping."

            Buffy's face fell.  "So you don't think I'm overreacting?  I was kinda hoping you would."

            "Hmm… late-night collusion in a darkened laboratory between two employees of a company that has been known to, on occasion, infect an entire town with a deadly virus?  Not sure it would be possible to overreact.  I don't even think a good old-fashioned panic would be out of the question."  And Xander knew a few things about panicking.  He thought he would definitely know the appropriate time for such a thing.

            "Yeah, unfortunately, pretty much agreeing with you," said Buffy, ruefully.  Then, throwing on her brisk Slayer voice, "Okay, first thing I have to do now is find out who the other guy was.  He had sort of a Val-Kilmer-from-Top-Gun thing going on and, for some reason, he was wearing sunglasses at night."

            "Man, I hate that song.  Sunglasses at night can only be a harbinger of doom."

            "I'll look at the employee profiles tonight at work.  With my handy-dandy security clearance, it shouldn't be much of a problem.  We'll see if Val shows up there."

            Xander wolfed down the rest of his sandwich.  He worked up an appetite toiling in the blazing California sun.  Also, the threat of Sunnydale's destruction had long since stopped ruining his appetite.  He figured there was some kind of evolutionary imperative at work: adapt or perish.  If he had quit eating every time the town was in grave danger, he would have starved to death back in high school.  

Licking jelly remnants off his fingers, he said, "Yeah, and you should check out that weird underground basement.  Didn't think much of it at the time when we built it, but now that I look back, I guess it was a little Room 314-ish."

            Silence.  He looked at Buffy, who looked back at him in exasperated disbelief.

            "Basement?  There's no basement in the Alamo!"  Buffy said.

"Huh?"

"Xander, I've never heard of a basement in the Umbrella facility.  And you know, you really need to stop with the 'not thinking of it at the time'.  Think of it at the time, 'kay?  Now, spill."

            Xander, confused, said, "You mean you haven't been in the basement?  Aren't you a security guard or something?"

            "Yes, I am, but as far as I know, there are only four floors.  Are you sure about there being a basement?"

            "Sure I'm sure, Buff.  I helped build the durned thing.  But the thing I noticed about this basement?  No way in.  There wasn't anything in the plans about an entrance.  The stairwell doesn't go down there and neither does the elevator.  The basement is completely shut off from the rest of the building.  It has its own water line, power generator, 'n everything."

            Buffy sat there, thinking.  What reason would there be for a secret basement unless someone was doing something naughty down there?  After all, bad things happen in basements.  Broken water mains requiring full copper re-pipe, homicidal rage against one's friends… all kinds of things could go wrong in a basement.  So how was this naughty someone getting down there?  Oh, wait.  Duh.  Of course!  The same way most of the denizens of Sunnydale got around.  The sewers.  Sometimes she wished Mayor Wilkins would come back from whatever politician/giant-snake hell dimension he was in just so she could slap him around for building those damned demon-friendly sewers. 

            Buffy stood up and looked at Xander.  "Well, Xand, looks like it's that time of the year again.  Of course, by 'that time', I mean time to muck around in the sewers looking for a hidden entrance to a secret lair."

            Xander was less than thrilled.  "Why does this time of the year always seem to come so quickly?  And often?"

            Buffy smiled at her friend.  She understood his pain.  Fortunately for Xander, he wouldn't have to accompany her this time.  "We're the brave and the few, Xander.  The brave and the few who are willing to get our shoes really, really filthy.  But fear not, this is just gonna be a look-see type thing that I can totally handle on my own, so your shoes are safe.  For now."

            "You sure?  'Cause I'm willing, Buff."

            "I'm positive.  But thanks for offering."


	8. Chapter 8

That night… 

            "Yep.  Still smells.  Guh!"  Buffy tried breathing through her mouth instead of her nose, but then stopped after she thought about what kind of fumes and particles she might be allowing into her mouth.  Vampires, being respirationally challenged, didn't have to worry about inhaling poop particles when they skulked through the sewers, lucky, undead things that they were.  

            Buffy had been exploring the sewers that were under the Umbrella facility for about half-an-hour now, but the secret entrance was, so far, a no show.  She had one more stretch of sewer to go so, by the process of elimination, it should be the stinky, filth-encrusted winner.  She scanned the walls, knowing the entrance had to be here somewhere.  There was no other way for people to get into the basement.  At work, she had checked every nook and cranny of the first floor, and had seen no way to access the basement.

            Out loud, she declared to the sewer, "Never fear!  I shall find the entrance for I am Buffy, Mightiest of the Mighty Sewer-Scouring—"  

Hey, what's that up there? 

Up ahead of her was a black tarp that almost blended into the wall, perfect for concealing – Buffy wrenched it aside – 

            A door.

            A door, which, unfortunately, had an electronic lock with a keypad on it.  The Umbrella Corporation sure had a soft spot for these electronic door locks.  Buffy doubted her security code would work but just in case, she tapped it in.  

            Nothing.  The light on the lock stayed red.  Hopefully, her failed code entry wouldn't trigger some silent alarm somewhere, thereby sending a battalion of armed operatives her way.  That would ruin her night.  Looking at the door, she didn't think could just kick it in, 'cause if she could kick open a solid steel door, she'd probably have embarked on an illustrious career as a bank robber by now.

            _So, how do I get in?_ she wondered.  _I don't think whoever's in there would buy it if I knocked, and told 'em I was selling Girl Scout cookies._  Buffy was stumped.  She might just have to wait and confront Deceitful Gary tonight at work and see if he knows—

            She heard a _click-click _noise.  

From behind her came a voice.  A recognizable voice.

            "Turn around, Buffy.  Slowly."

            Damn.  Guess she wouldn't have to wait.  Buffy turned to see Gary standing about six feet away from her, complete with big, scary gun.  Gary looked much less like the slightly annoying, slightly stupid guy whom she worked with, than he did a seriously pissed-off guy with a gun pointed at her head.  She was beginning to think she wasn't going to like any of Gary's incarnations.

            Gary smiled his goofy, but now strangely menacing, smile.  "Hey, Buff.  Nice to see you again so soon.  Wish it didn't have to be under these circumstances, you know, when I have to kill you.  Before we get to that though, why don't you tell me exactly what you know and what you're doing down here?"

            Buffy weighed her options.  She could try to pull some nifty Slayer move and get the gun out of his hands, but that alternative carried with it the slight possibility of death by big, honkin' bullet hole.  Not ideal.  For now, then, she'd stick to her tried-and-true witty banter method, which oddly enough, tended to work to distract the enemy.  As she was about to toss off a really great quip, she heard a _chick-chuck_ from behind Gary.  Wow, there must've been a whole parade of folks behind her tonight.

            A man spoke from some indeterminable distance away.  "I really don't think that's how this is going to go down.  See, I have a shotgun pointed at you right now, so unless you want your head to explode into a fine, pink mist all over the wall of this sewer, you're going to put your gun down slowly, put your hands behind your back, and get down on the ground."

            Gary, eyes wild with disbelief and fear, yelled, "Who the hell are you??"

            "I'm here to lodge an official complaint with Umbrella.  I hope I've come to the right place.  Now get down on the ground!!"

            Judging from the speed with which Gary complied, it seemed as if Gary would rather his head stay head-shaped.  As Gary knelt to the floor and then lowered himself gingerly into the sewer muck, Buffy finally saw who had been standing behind him.  Her eyes opened wide.

            "You!"

            The man took his eyes off of Gary, and squinted to see her in the darkness.  As recognition struck, he said, "You!"

            It was the cute reporter from the cemetery, looking heaps more commando-ish with his camo wear and shotgun.  Buffy thought, _What in the world is a reporter doing in a sewer, holding a shotgun and saving my life?_

Oooooh….

            He probably wasn't really a reporter.


	9. Chapter 9

Leon stared in shock at the girl.  If he had had to guess who, out of anyone in the world, was being held at gunpoint by the asshole from Umbrella, she would've been the very last person he would have picked.  Dressed in dark clothes and looking remarkably less scared than she should be in this situation, the girl stared back at him.

            From the ground, the prone man said, "Aw, this is real sweet, you two knowing each other.  Maybe I should just get goin' and leave you to reunite."

            Shaking his head a little, Leon forced himself to focus.  "Quiet, scum.  I don't want to hear anything from you unless I ask you a direct question."  Looking back at the girl, but keeping his gun aimed at the man, Leon asked, "Who are you and why are you here?"

            The girl didn't seem to appreciate his brusque tone, but she answered.  "My name's Buffy Summers and I was just, uh, looking around when I, um, found… this door."  Her voice had trailed off.  Yeah, girlie, not exactly the most believable explanation you could come up with.  He needed to know why she was here.

            "Really?  Looking around in the sewer?  You really do turn up in the most unusual places, Miss Summers.  Cemeteries, sewers… very odd.  Now, I want you to tell me the truth: why are you here?"

            The girl, Buffy, looked him up and down, sizing him up much in the same way that his instructors in the Academy had taught him to size up an opponent before hand-to-hand combat.

            As if coming to a decision, she said, "I don't know who you are, why you claimed to be a reporter, or why _you're _down here in a stanky sewer, but, I think we both want to get into this room.  Am I right about that?"

            Leon narrowed his eyes in speculation.  It seemed as if she knew something about the secret basement that lay beyond the door.  The man from Umbrella had obviously considered her to be some kind of threat since he had attempted to kill her.  He'd have to see where this was going.

            "Yes, it appears we both do."

            She nodded.  "We need a code to get in.  Do you have the code?"

            "No, I don't," Leon said.  There was a pause.  Both he and the girl looked down at the man on the floor.  "But I bet someone here does."

            The girl coolly met his eyes and nodded again.  The next moment, she was kneeling on the back of the man's neck with one knee.  Hmm, that might work… if he was still able to talk afterward.  

            "Gary!" she rapped out sharply.  She knew the man's name.  How?  "Let me tell you something about me.  When my life is threatened with a gun, I tend to get angry.  I hope, for your sake, that when _your_ life is threatened, you feel the urge to talk and get your feelings out.  Like, say, your feelings about a certain passcode to a secret door."

            _She had a way with her_, Leon admitted to himself.  It still remained to be seen whether she could be trusted.

            The man, Gary, made some gagging noises that seemed to translate to, "Get off my neck."  Buffy let up on his neck, and jerked his head backwards.  "Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Gary?"

            Gary, unwisely, croaked, "Get… off… back… bitch!!"

            Buffy seemed to take this as a sign that Gary needed his right shoulder to be nearly dislocated.  He let out an unmanly shriek.

            "1…9…7…3…," were the word-like noises coming from Gary's throat.

            She let go of Gary and hopped to her feet.  "Thanks for sharing, Gary."

            Leon looked at her.  "Good work."  Reaching into his utility belt, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, closed one end around Gary's wrist, and after hauling the struggling man up, he latched the other cuff around a pipe that ran down the side of the sewer wall.  "'Fraid you can't come with us, Gary, but why don't you stay here and keep watch?"

            "Fuck you."

            "Okay, then just stay here and contemplate what your fate will be when the higher-ups at Umbrella find out about your royal screw-up.  That should be fun."

            Gary didn't appear to agree, as he looked away with an angry scowl.

            Leon looked back at Buffy, who was waiting by the door.  He came closer, then said, "Thanks for your help, Miss Summers.  Now, I don't think it's the best idea for you to go in there unarmed so I'm going to have to insist that you stay—"

            Leon hadn't even finished his sentence when Buffy made a quick, and fairly painful, move on him, and before he knew it, he was staring into the barrel of his Desert Eagle, which had been in a holster at his side.

            Her gaze was steely as she made a point at aiming at him, then lowering the gun.  "I can handle myself.  And I don't need one of these."  She handed the gun back to him, handle first.  "I'm going in there."

            Leon was, to be honest, shaken.  She had moved so fast.  And she was strong!  Stronger than most men he knew.  Who was this girl??  She wasn't yet an ally, but he sure as hell didn't want her as an enemy.  If it turned out she could be trusted, she'd be an invaluable asset in the fight against Umbrella.  One thing's for sure, he needed to find out what she wanted and whom she was working for.  But, until then…  

            …looks like he had new partner.


	10. Chapter 10

_            Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep._

_            Click._

The passcode that Gary had given to her worked.  

            Buffy looked at the man beside her.  He was standing here, grim, alert and very Riley-like.  "Before we go in there, don't you think I should know your name?"

            "Leon," he said, "Leon Kennedy."

            "Well, Leon, nice to meet you.  Let's go."

            Buffy turned the metal handle to the door, and pushed in.  She took a quiet step inside, was not immediately attacked, so she jerked her head at Leon, indicating he should come in behind her.  As Leon closed the door behind them, Buffy scanned her surroundings.  She stood in what looked to be a normal laboratory.  Metal countertops, testing equipment, shelves filled with various chemicals.  She was for a moment struck with a feeling of paralytic panic that used to assail her everyday before chemistry class in high school, but she recovered before the accompanying urge to flee set in. 

There were four doors that led to more rooms.  If Gary's co-conspirator was down here, he might be in one of those rooms.  

            Leon, who had also been surveying the room, muttered, "This looks familiar."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean that Umbrella has been experimenting with the virus again, and they don't want anyone to know about it," he said darkly.

            That was not sounding good.  Buffy said, "Okay, why don't we take a moment here so that you can tell me about the virus?  Is it the same virus that took out that city back in the Midwest?

            Leon looked at her, then turned away.  Buffy waited for him to speak.  "What do you know about the virus?"

"To sum up: nothing."  

After a pause, Leon, still looking away, began to speak again, slowly but intensely.  "The virus that Umbrella invented turns people into…monsters…into the living dead.  If you become infected, either through bloodborn or airborn transmission, you die… but you don't really die.  Your body is dead but your brain continues to function.  You crave human flesh and blood.  You're stronger, more resistant to pain.  You can take two, three shots from this shotgun I'm holding and still be standing.  And, to answer your other question, we'd be lucky if this was the same virus – the T-Virus – that killed the people of Raccoon City.  At least then we'd know what we're dealing with.  But the virus mutates, become more virulent, has unpredictable effects."

Leon looked at Buffy, his gaze pained…strong.  "I work for an underground organization that is committed to stopping Umbrella's work on the virus.  I came to Sunnydale to investigate what Umbrella is planning to do here because, if I know Umbrella, they've been playing God again… and whatever they've come up with won't be pretty."

            Silence.  Then, "So, the virus turns people into zombies."

            "Correct."

            "Arms outstretched, shuffling feet, moaning for braaaaaains zombies?"

            "Look, I know it's hard to believe but—"

            "No, I gotcha.  So what do we do next?"

            From the look of disbelief on Leon's face, it was clear he hadn't expected Buffy to believe him.  To her, the whole situation had been so Initiative-esque so far, what with the normal-guy-turned-commando deal and the secret rooms, the zombie virus and corporate malfeasance just seemed to fit.

            "You believe me?  Just like that?" he asked.

"Just like that.  Now, you showed me yours, so I'll show you mine.  A few days ago, I overheard two men, one of them our friend Gary and another guy I don't know, talking about taking a virus out of the facility.  I couldn't hear the entire conversation but that was enough to wig me out a little.  I looked in the company files to see if I could ID the other guy, but didn't have any luck.  So here I am, checking out the secret basement, seeing if I can find out what's going on."

"How did you hear this conversation?"

"On my rounds.  I'm a security assistant for Umbrella."

Leon backed away, gripping his shotgun a little tighter.  "You work for Umbrella?  How do I know I can trust you?" he demanded.

Buffy frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.  Miffed Buffy pose.  "Listen, I've only been working here a few weeks.  I'm really not feeling the company loyalty to the point where I'll overlook a zombie virus being swiped and taken who knows where.  And, hey, did ya ever think I might have some trust issues where you're concerned, Mr. Reporter Man?"

"I'm sorry I lied about that, but I had to come up with something so I could sniff out information about what Umbrella is doing here.  And you can trust me because I've seen firsthand what this virus can do when it's let loose and I'll do anything to prevent it from happening again," he said.

So Leon had a story.  Well, doesn't everybody.  She had some stories too, but now wasn't the time to tell them.  They had work to do, asses to kick, viruses to…make … ineffective.  

Anyway.  Buffy looked Leon in the eye and offered her hand to him.  "Okay, Leon, I'm putting my trust in you.  From here on out, we have to watch each other's back.  Are we cool?"

He looked down at her hand, then at her, then shook her hand firmly.  "We are.  Now let's check this place out."


	11. Chapter 11

Leon and Buffy separated, so they could cover the main room more quickly.  Leon headed over to the experiment area in the center of the room.  In his experience, Umbrella employees had a tendency to leave incriminating pieces of evidence out in the open, usually in the form of memos and personal correspondence.  He hoped to find something to indicate what Umbrella was doing in Sunnydale.  

Rifling through the papers that were in a stack on one of the lab counters proved fruitless.  He opened drawers and cabinets, found nothing but the usual laboratory equipment.  Shit.  Maybe Umbrella was learning to cover up their paper trail better.

He walked over to where Buffy was, by a desk on the opposite wall from where they had entered the lab.  She was looking through the papers.

"Find anything?"

"Nothing of the ah-ha variety.  Standard office stuff.  Here are some formulas and diagrams of really, really complicated looking chemical structures."

Leon took a look at them, but couldn't make heads or tails of 'em.  Science wasn't really his strong suit.  It didn't appear to be Buffy's either, since she was tossing the papers aside with a slight look of revulsion.  

He went to the computer that was on the desk.  He moved the mouse to bring the computer out of sleep mode.  When the monitor came on, the screen showed the Umbrella icon with a field for username and password.  

"Damn.  The computer is password protected.  That's not gonna help us."

Buffy said, "Maybe this will help."

She handed him a slip of paper that had been shoved under the computer's tower.  It read: 

LHENDRICKS  

7895F

Ah.  Leon knew he could trust someone at Umbrella to leave vital clues lying around.  He tapped in the username and password.  The umbrella icon spun and then disappeared.  On the screen appeared a window with a list of files.  _Hmm… looks like L. Hendricks' personal files, Leon thought.  He opened the file that had the most recent date._

_7.24.02_

_Oh God, he's done it again.  He's crazy!  There's no need to resort to these measures.  The research is important, yes, but we're scientists, not criminals.  This latest one was someone just getting off of work, totally unsuspecting of what awaited him.  Poor bastard.  Now he's just one more of W.'s pets.  I know W. has been using some of us too.  He told us that Anna and Jason were let go, but we know the    _

The entry ended there.  Looks like Hendricks had been interrupted.  

            Buffy said, frowning, "The plot sickens.  Looks like this W guy is kidnapping people and using them as unwilling test subjects.  God."

            Leon was not surprised.  "Umbrella isn't a company that lets a little thing like ethics get in the way of its goals."  He was trying to access other files on the computer, but L. Hendricks didn't appear to have clearance for anything important.  Every file he tried to open prompted him for another password.  

Buffy looked around the room, then said, "Let's see if any of these rooms are open."

They went over to the door closest to them.  Tried the knob.  Locked.  Same with the second door… and the third… but when Buffy turned the knob on the fourth door, it turned.  They walked into the darkened room.  Leon flipped on the light.

"Another lab.  Yippee," Buffy enthused sarcastically.

This room was different from the lab in the main room as there was a metal operating table in the center.  On one side of the table was a tray with various surgical implements, looking shiny and sharp on a fresh blue chuck.  On the opposite side of the room from where they were standing was a small corridor, with metal walls and a metal grid floor.  There was a doorway with a metal sliding door.  

The room was completely still.  Silent, in an unsettling, hushed-breath way, as if the room was waiting for something to happen.

Buffy looked over at the sink.  "If ever there was a room for a leaky faucet…"

Leon quirked the corner of his mouth.  Yeah.  Umbrella had a way with ambiance.  

He walked over to the other door, with Buffy following him.  Their footsteps clanged on the grid floor.  Leon pressed the unmarked button that was on the wall beside the door.  The door slid open with a quiet whoosh.

It was pitch black in the room, as the light from the room they were in did not quite penetrate the darkness.

Buffy and Leon stepped forward into the room.

The metal door slid shut behind them.

_Snick._

_That wasn't a promising noise_, Leon thought.

He groped the wall, looking for a button to open the door.  He felt something and pressed it, but the door didn't open.

"Can you see anything at all?" Buffy asked.

"Not a thing.  How about—"

Leon heard a swift movement and then a fleshy _thunk _sound.  Buffy!  He heard her drop to the floor.  He held up his shotgun, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse of whatever was in the room with them.  He crouched, so that his head wouldn't be in striking distance.  

_Someone knows we're here_, he thought.

He heard a faint whirring noise and then… he heard nothing more.

Leon collapsed on the floor.

Someone, something, laughed.  Buffy and Leon's prone bodies were picked up.

"Excellent… more volunteers…" came a voice from the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

Some time later… 

_Ow…pain in the head…ow!… make that shooting pain in the head_, Buffy thought as she groped her way to full consciousness.  Her next thought was: _ahhh!  _Or it would have been if she had been able to think that articulately.

Buffy thrashed around in her watery surroundings.  Her gaze wildly shot up, down, around, eyes wide and frightened.  She tried screaming but something was in her mouth, so her cries came out garbled and muffled by the water.  Her heart raced, threatening to beat itself right out of her chest.  She felt herself begin to gag and run out of air.  Her vision began to turn black.

From deep inside, she heard – no… felt – the crisp, cool voice of Giles, telling her to calm down, focus on her surroundings, evaluate the situation.  She would be okay, if she would just calm herself.

She concentrated on the act of breathing.  Then she realized that she _could_ breath because she had a mouthpiece in her mouth, similar to the kind you use in scuba diving.  Here was her source of oxygen.  So, she hadn't been tossed, unconscious, into some body of water to drown.  _No_, Buffy said to herself, as she gathered a clearer picture of her predicament, _something a lot less pleasant than that._   

She was completely encased in a cylindrical glass tank filled with what seemed to be some kind of watery substance.  The top of the tank was shut tight with large bolts.  Her clothes had been removed and she was in a wetsuit, although it wasn't as thick as a normal wetsuit.  Man, whoever had stripped her naked was going to have to suffer the pain big-time.  Fortunately, for escape purposes, she wasn't restrained in any way, so she had the use of her arms and legs.  

The best way to get out of this thing would be to somehow break the glass.  Obviously.  But beating her fists against it probably wasn't the most effective approach.  Unless…

She realized that the mouthpiece left a faint metallic tang in her mouth, so she took a deep breath, removed the mouthpiece, and inspected it.  Ah.  The base of it, below the rubbery part that went in her mouth, looked like it was made of metal.  Metal, you see, was hard.  Metal she could use.  Taking another breath from the mouthpiece, she got a firm grip on it and starting banging on the glass walls of the tank with mouthpiece.  After a time, she heard a small, satisfying _chink _as the metal chipped away at the glass.  She gave it another good whomp.  

_Chink!_

Now she could just make out a small stream of liquid escaping from the pinprick hole she had made.  After another hit from the mouthpiece, a crack began to form.  Now, to put that Slayer strength to good use.  Sticking the mouthpiece back in her mouth, Buffy moved back as far as she could, then brought up her right leg.  She kicked at the glass, using her heel.  Yes!  The crack got bigger.  She kicked again… and again… and…

The glass shattered.

Glass shards spilled out onto the floor, along with a large gush of liquid from her tank.  No longer buoyed by the liquid, Buffy dropped to the floor of the tank.

Oh.  Ow.  Ow!

Now that she was free from her watery torture chamber, she could concentrate more fully on her pained head.  All the banging and sharp movements didn't seem to have helped.  At least the bottom of her foot wasn't cut from the glass.  Pure luck, that.

Buffy slowly got up, then gingerly stepped down onto a relatively glass-free section of the floor.  She was in a large room, with a long row of water tanks just like the one she had been in.  The tanks were lit from inside, as hers must've been though she hadn't realized it at the time.  The room was dark so the light from the tanks cast a faint, greenish glow on the walls.  The last tank in the row contained a floating form—

Oh, God!  Leon!

She ran over to Leon's tank.  He was still unconscious.  Quickly looking around the room, she spied a fire extinguisher secured to the wall.  Racing over to it, she wrenched it off the wall and ran back to the tank.

_Bang!  Bang!  Bang!_

The fire extinguisher worked a lot quicker than her mouthpiece had.  Within a minute, the glass shattered, releasing the liquid from the tank, and leaving Leon on the floor in a heap.  He still hadn't come-to.

Buffy knelt beside him.  Removed the mouthpiece from his mouth.  Gave his cheek a couple of quick slaps.  "Leon, c'mon.  Gotta wake up, Leon.  Leon!  Leon!"

Leon's eyelids fluttered.

"…Hunh…?"

"That's it, Leon.  Come on back.  You have to wake up if we're going to get out of here."  She didn't add that it would be a good idea to get out, like, now, before more people came to hit them on the head.  "How are you feeling?  Can I help you stand?"

Leon's gaze was unfocused.  He murmured a weak noise of assent.  Buffy put her arm around his chest, under his shoulders, and helped him to stand.  

"…Where…?"

"We were attacked from behind.  We're still in the Umbrella lab.  Now, let's go.  Start walking, Leon.  I'll help you."

She was so intent on helping Leon to walk that she was startled when the lights in the room came on.  She whipped her head up.  Beside her, Leon snapped his eyes shut at the sudden, harsh light.

At the other end of the room stood the blond man – complete with trademark sunglasses – that she had seen with Gary the other night.  He was wearing a lab coat that had some brownish stains on it.  Gary himself was standing slightly behind him, looking mightily pissed off and mightily readily to kick their asses.  Behind them were about ten men, all dressed in black uniforms, who seemed to be of the thug/operative/soldier variety, as all of their attention was focused on the blond man, waiting for instructions.  The men looked… odd… to Buffy, although she couldn't really put her finger on why.  Something about their eyes…

The blond man spoke.  "Your recovery was much quicker than I had anticipated.  You both must be of strong stock.  Unfortunately, though, you'll have to get back into the enzyme stabilization tanks until the amplification process is complete.  Please don't resist; I wouldn't want you to be damaged after all the work I've put in." 

Leon tensed beside her.  "Oh, God, you didn't…you didn't…"

He was clearly freaked by something Blondie had said.  She whispered, "What's he talking about?"

"He infected us."

"What??"

"The virus!!  He infected us with the goddamn T-Virus!"  


	13. Chapter 13

            Thoughts raced through Leon's mind.

_--turn into one of those THINGS—_

_            --rather die—_

_            --helphelphelp—_

_            --get antivirus, they must have one, created the damned thing—_

His mental panic was interrupted.  

            "Actually, that's not entirely true, Mr. Kennedy.  And, since I have not done so already, let me take a moment to introduce myself.  My name is Albert Wesker, and I am a scientist here at Umbrella.  It's been a pleasure working with you so far."

The name rang a bell in Leon's mind, but he couldn't…quite…remember where 

he had heard the name before.  

            Wesker went on, "The T-Virus, while it was certainly useful as a stepping stone in our research, is now considered to be… obsolete.  I have something special in mind for you two."

            Buffy, in a pinched, infuriated voice, said, "What did you do to us?"

            Wesker's attention shifted to her, "Miss Summers.  Gary here tells me you work with him in the security department.  Tell me, do you enjoy working for Umbrella?"

            "Actually, scraping the grease pit at the Double Meat is seemin' awful tempting right now.  I might have to tender my resignation when I get out of here."

            "It's unfortunate that you feel that way since I have the feeling that you'll be working with us for quite some time."

            Leon, tired of the man's vagueness, demanded, "Tell us what you did to us, asshole!"

            Wesker seemed displeased with Leon's epithet, but did not mention it.  "I believe instead of telling you, I'll give you a demonstration.  Unit One, come forward."

            One of the uniformed men stepped forward.  The man kept his eyes fastened on Wesker.  As he stepped closer, Leon was able to get a closer look at him.  The man seemed… not right.  His skin was ashen, the whites of his eyes yellowish.  He looked deathly ill.  In fact, if Leon didn't know better…

            "Unit One, open your mouth."

            The man complied.  Inside his mouth – oh, God – he had fangs!  His incisors were at least half an inch long, and very sharp.  God, what kind of monsters was Umbrella creating now??  He felt Buffy tense beside him.  

            Wesker smiled, clearly pleased with his creation.  "Unit Two, come forward."

            The second man stepped forward.  

            "Unit Two, remove Unit One's right arm."

            To Leon's horror, the second man reached out with both hands, gripped the other man's arm, and wrenched the arm out of his socket.  

Leon felt himself begin to gag.  Beside him, he heard Buffy utter a quiet, "Oh, God."  The first man had barely made any kind of reaction at all when his arm was torn off, merely a soft grunt and barely perceptible fluttering of his eyelids.  

            "Excellent.  Unit Two, you may keep the arm as your reward."

            With what looked to Leon to be an expression of hungry glee, the man started to consume the arm.  Beside him, the man with an empty, bloody socket where his arm used to be watched the feast with no expression.  Using sharp teeth to tear at the flesh, the second man made short work of the arm.  There were sickening, fleshy sounds as he ate.  His lower face was completely covered in red, clotted blood.  Clotted blood… clotted… God, of course.

            They were zombies.  Not the kind of mindless zombies that resulted from a T-Virus infection, but something much, much worse.  The T-Virus had been… accidental… its effects uncontrolled.  After all, what possible use could mindlessly aggressive zombies have?  As Umbrella had learned in Raccoon City, zombies that could not be controlled were as apt to kill Umbrella researchers and employees as anyone else they came across.  But a zombie that could be trained to follow orders – well, that clearly had many possible applications.

            Wesker was watching the bloody scene with the pride of a creator.  "So you see, Mr. Kennedy, you and Miss Summers will have the honor of being on the front line of scientific research.  Here at Umbrella, we pride ourselves on being the one of the world's leading medical research companies.  So devoted are we to our cause, many of us even choose to use our own bodies to test certain… physical modifications."  

After a dramatic pause, Wesker reached up and removed his glasses.  His eyes were bright yellow and completely un-human.  They were… more like the eyes of an animal, with slitted black pupils and large yellow irises.  After allowing them to look their fill, Wesker put his glasses back on.  _His eyes must be sensitive to the light_, Leon noted.  

Leon was now fairly certain that he was dealing with someone who was completely fucking crazy.

Wesker smiled.  "Within a few short hours, you both will be part of something much larger than yourselves."

            Leon was still reeling from what he had just learned of Wesker and his plans.  To prevent total panic, he focused on details.  "Hours?  The T-Virus used to take days to work."     

            "Yes, you are correct.  However, ever since we moved our operation here to Sunnydale, we've noticed that this new virus – known here as the D-Virus – has several very useful advantages over the T-Virus.  One is a mutation of the virus that results in the growth of the unit's incisors, as you have seen.  Another is an accelerated amplification process, so that the spread of the virus throughout the body is complete in approximately six hours.  Some of the members of my research team point toward a… unique geographical feature of Sunnydale as the cause of this phenomenon."

            Leon heard Buffy mutter something like "Hell" and "mouth."  He wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

            Wesker glanced at his wristwatch, then continued to speak.  "Now, I'm afraid that I have to insist that you return to your tanks.  Otherwise, the decomposition process cannot be controlled as precisely as I would like.  All Units, assist Mr. Kennedy and Miss Summers to their tanks."

            With Wesker's command, all ten soldier zombies, including the zombie with one arm, began to move toward them.

            At that moment, Leon really wished he had his shotgun with him.


	14. Chapter 14

Buffy watched as the zombies walked toward her and Leon.  This wasn't the slow, shuffling walk of the classic Night of the Living Dead zombie.  They walked almost like a live person, although their legs seemed a little… wobbly.  God.  No WAY was she gonna let this Wesker guy turn her and Leon into one of those things.  She glanced over at Leon, who seemed transfixed by the sight of them.  'Kay, transfixed wasn't going to help.

            "Leon!  Tell me how to kill them."

            Leon swallowed.  "Uh…a gun is usually my preferred method."

            "We don't have guns.  Think of something else."

            He looked at her, eyes coming into focus.  Good.  "We need to sever their spinal cords."

            "You mean knock their heads off?"

            He looked back at the zombies, his eyes narrowing.  "Exactly."

            Buffy ran over to where she had dropped the fire extinguisher earlier.  She tossed it to Leon.  "Here.  Use this."

            The zombies approached.  

Leon and Buffy rushed them.  Leon, a desperate sound coming from his throat, used the fire extinguisher to bash the first one in the head.  The force of the blow knocked the head crooked.  The zombie rocked back on his heels, as if stunned.  Leon took the opportunity to let fly with the extinguisher again.  The zombie's head was now quite crushed.  The creature fell to the floor.  Leon let out a whoop.

"Yeah, you sonofabitch!  Yeah!!"

Buffy was in the midst of battling a zombie of her own.  She hopped up onto a lab counter top that was along the side of the room.  She was now at the right height to give the closest zombie a good Slayer kick to the head.  _Crack!  _The head of the zombie flipped completely backwards, as if it was trying to get a good look at something on the ceiling.  The zombie crumpled.

As Buffy was whooping more zombie ass, she took a quick glance up to where Wesker and Gary had been.  Both were gone.  Of course.  Continuing the grand tradition of villains everywhere.

After Buffy downed her last zombie, she looked over to Leon's battle station, and witnessed him giving his last zombie the what-for.  She cried out when she got a closer look at the zombie, but it was too late.  The fire extinguisher connected with the head, and knocked something loose near the top of the extinguisher, spraying white foam everywhere.  Leon threw the extinguisher aside with a loud clang.

"John!!"  

She jumped down from the counter.  Leon threw her a startled look, breathing rapidly from the fight.

"John!!"  She knelt by the body of her former coworker.  His head was dented and bloody from the blows Leon had given him.  His neck was bent at a right angle.  Buffy took a shuddering breath.

Leon asked quietly, "You knew this guy?"

Looking down at John's mangled corpse, Buffy felt a rush of anger and sadness sweep over her.  God.  That journal entry they had read on the computer… it mentioned someone being kidnapped when they were just leaving work.  She realized now that the date had been the same time John had stopped coming to work.

"Yeah, I knew him.  He worked with me on the night shift.  He was the one that Hendricks mentioned in his journal."  She was still looking at John's body.  _Sorry too late sorry too late sorry too late sorry too late… it was the same incantation of pain she repeated everytime she wasn't in time to save somebody.   _

"I'm so sorry, Buffy."  Leon said, distressed.  "Try to remember that that's not really John lying there.  Just his body.  Wesker killed your friend and was using his body."

Buffy knew this.  It was the same thing she told herself when she slayed a vampire that wore the face of a friend.  It's not really them, just a demon using their body.  But still… John was dead.  He wouldn't be taking that real estate broker exam now.

She knelt there a moment longer, then stood up.

She looked at Leon, all business.  "Do you know if there's a cure for this virus?"

"There has to be.  Umbrella would've had the scientists create one in case there was an accident in the lab."

"It must be in one of the other locked rooms."

The moment she said the words, an alarm sounded and a computerized female voice was heard.  

DANGER! EMERGENCY SYSTEMWIDE LOCK RELEASE HAS BEEN ACTIVATED! ALL EMPLOYEES PLEASE EVACUATE!

Leon said, "Wesker must've released all the locks.  If he did it, he has some reason for it."

Buffy agreed.  "Probably a diabolical one, too.  Might as well take advantage of it.  Let's go."

Buffy and Leon ran to the metal sliding door.  When Buffy pressed the button, it slid open.  The room they entered had a row of operating table, each equipped with metal ankle and wrist manacles.  Two of the table had small metal operating trays with empty syringes placed on them.  This must've been where they had been infected with the virus.      

            Leon said, "This looks to be as good a place as any to start looking for the anti--- whoa…"

            Leon swayed on his feet.  He put a hand on the wall.  His complexion looked noticeably grayer than his usual healthy tan.  He also had a line of beaded sweat along his upper lip and his hairline.

            He said, swallowing in rapid succession, "I… suddenly don't feel…too good.  I think the virus is… starting to work."

            Buffy was concerned.  Or, as some people might term it, seriously wigged out.  If Leon was already starting to feel the effects of the infection, then it wouldn't be long before she did as well.  The virus probably had a harder time attacking her hardy Slayer cells.

            She helped Leon prop himself against the wall.  "You stay here.  I'm going to look around the room for the antivirus."

            She ran to each cabinet and drawer, opening each one.  Buffy wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.  Maybe something marked ANTIVIRUS in big letters.  That would be helpful.

            After awhile, she realized it probably wasn't in here.  Damn.  They'd have to look in another room.  She hoped Wesker and Gary hadn't decided to stick around and lurk in a dark corner.

            She went over to Leon.  "Can you walk, Leon?"

            His eyes were closed, and he was scratching at the bicep of his left arm.

            "Leon?"

            His eyes opened.  "Yeah, I think… I can walk."

            Buffy took Leon's hand, and walked to the door.  It slid open.  As she took a step into the room, she heard something… sounded like…

            Growling.

            She heard a faint _click-click _sound on the tiled floor.

            Then she saw them.

            Why hadn't anyone told her about zombie dogs?  


	15. Chapter 15

There were three of them.  Wesker had clearly not paid as close attention to the… upkeep of the dogs as he had to his soldier zombies.  The dogs were all in varying stages of decay, with gelatinous, misshapen eyeballs, and chunks of flesh missing here and there.  They growled hungrily, baring their yellowed teeth.

            Leon noticed that close to where he and Buffy were standing, there was a tray on the lab counter with some surgical implements.  He grabbed a long, serrated knife and what looked to be a cleaver – God, what did they do with that? – and offered one to Buffy.  She took the cleaver.

            _Okay, Leon, shake it off.  Gotta concentrate, _he thought.  It's just that he was so… hot… and his skin itched, as if he was covered with bugs—

            At that moment, the dogs leapt at them.  Buffy stepped forward, kicking one of them in the head in mid-leap.  She did a roundhouse kick and knocked the second one out.  Leon had the third one to himself so he slashed at it with his knife, nearly slicing off the lower jaw.  The dogs flew backwards as they were hit, skidding along the floor with yelps.  As the dogs were still on the floor, Leon and Buffy ran to them, using their knives to slice the dogs' throats.  But one dog had time to right itself, and it sprang onto Buffy as she turned from the dog she had just killed. 

"Agghhh!" Buffy cried out as she fell to the floor.  She was holding the dog away from her, as it snapped at her face.  Her arm, unfortunately, was too close to the dog's mouth, and the animal bit down on her forearm.  Buffy let out a cry of pain.  Using her other hand, she managed to pry the dog's jaw open and off her arm.  Weakened, she couldn't struggle much more.  Leon ran over to her, grabbed the dog by the head and with a violent motion, snapped the dog's neck.  There was a very satisfying _crack _as the neck was broken.

            Leon knelt next to Buffy, who was still lying on the floor.  "Buffy, are you okay??"

            She had her eyes closed, and she was wincing in pain.  "Yeah… I think… I'm okay.  Just, ow, ow, my arms really hurts… and I've got zombie dog saliva all over me."

            Her arm was a mess.  There were at least six deep puncture wounds from where the dog's teeth had penetrated.  Blood was pouring from the wounds.  Leon looked around the room.  There was nothing he could use as a tourniquet.  Even the damned wetsuit he was wearing was useless.  

            "There's nothing around here I can use to bind your arm.  Can you stand up?" he asked.

            Buffy nodded, weakly.  She got her legs under herself and Leon helped her to stand.

            Though she was clearly still in a lot of pain, she said forcefully, "Okay, we can't stand around here all day.  We need to find that antivirus."                

Leon nodded.  Unfortunately, the adrenaline from the fight with the dogs hadn't lasted long.  Sweat was now pouring from his skin.  He would have gladly laid down right there but what terrified him into action was the feeling he got when he looked at the dead dogs on the floor.

            Hunger.

            He swallowed.  

            "Let's go," he said.

            Leon and Buffy stepped over the dogs on their way out.  They entered the next room.  It looked to be an office area.  Not the likely place for them to find the antivirus, but there was a much-appreciated lack of dead things to fight.  On one of the desks, there was a potted plant.  Leon went over to it, picked a leaf, and smelled it.  Smiled.  Ah, this would be helpful.  He handed the leaf to Buffy.

            "Here, chew this.  This plant has healing properties.  It will help your arm heal faster."

            Buffy eyed the leaf dubiously.  "Are you sure about this?"

            "Yes.  I've used it myself."

            Buffy took the leaf from his hand, then delicately put it in her mouth.  She chewed it, then swallowed.  Shook her head a little, and made a "guh" sound.  "Tastes like parsley."

            "Trust me, it'll help with the pain."

They walked to the door, which was a normal door with a knob.  Hopefully, this door would lead them back into the main room that they had entered from the sewer.

            It did.

            Right into the waiting arms of Dr. Wesker, who stood in the center of the room, sans glasses, yellow eyes narrowed menacingly.  Gary was by his side, holding a shotgun.  There were also about ten more soldier zombies.  However, unlike the zombies they had dealt with in the other room, these must have been… prototypes of some kind.  Chunks of flesh had fallen off of most of them, baring layers of decaying meat.  Some of them had had arms or legs crudely reattached.  Many of the zombies were making guttural moans as they looked at Leon and Buffy, as if they were starved for flesh.  It was not a good sound.  

            Then Leon realized something.  As he looked at Gary, he thought, _Hey… that's MY shotgun_.

            Okay.  Now he was pissed.


	16. Chapter 16

At that moment, looking at the group of animated corpses, all of them chomping at the bit to eat her face off, Buffy knew that she could happily go through the rest of her life without fighting anymore zombies.  She accepted that a part of becoming an adult was dealing with a variety of complex issues and situations, but she was now confident that the zombie issue, well, she had that one figured out.

            Her injured arm, though the leaf Leon had given her seemed to numb the pain a little, was throbbing in synchronized rhythm with her accelerated heartbeat.  She was also beginning to feel a little queasy and feverish.  She had a clear mental image of the D-Virus overthrowing, one by one, her cute little healthy cells in a violent, microscopic coup d'etat.

            The evil Dr. Wesker began to speak.  "I'm disappointed that neither of you grasp the importance of your role here."

            Buffy said, politely breaking the bad news, "Yes, well, Leon and I discussed it and we feel it's just not the right time for either of us to become mindless, blood-thirsty zombies, so if you wouldn't mind handing over the antivirus, we'll just be on our way."

            Wesker scowled, and the pupils of his beasty eyes contracted.  Buffy couldn't imagine why, if a guy had the chance to physically modify himself, he'd choose to go with the reptilian look.  But then, she'd never had the urge to create an army of soldier zombies, so, hey, guess she and the doctor weren't operating on the same plane of… sanity.

            Wesker said, "I'm sorry but you're just too valuable to our research.  Units… restrain them!"

            The zombies, clearly part of the Zombie Reserve Unit in Wesker's army, lurched forward.  Buffy and Leon gripped their knives, which they had kept after the fight with the dogs.  Before the zombies had time to get much closer—

            _BOOM!!!_

            There was an enormous explosion from somewhere outside the lab.  Buffy instinctively covered her ears, and ducked, forcing Leon to do the same.  One of the walls adjacent to the entry door to the lab crumpled in a cloud of dust and broken concrete.  Immediately, four masked, uniformed SWAT-team-like people streamed through the hole, carrying reassuringly large weapons.  

            "Contain the area!" came a shout from one of the officers to his comrades.  Then, to them, "Everybody put your hands up!  Stars!"

            Buffy, putting her hands in the air, wondered what stars had to do with anything.    

            It clearly meant something to Wesker, though, who was backing away rapidly.  "Stars!!  Damn you, Stars!!  Then he screamed, "Gary, shoot them!!  Units… attack the intruders!!"

            The zombies, who had taken little notice of the explosion, began to lurch in the other direction.  Gary, loyal henchman though he was, clearly thought the better of attacking four armed soldier types.  He put his gun down and threw his hands in the air.  He was quickly restrained by one of the star people.

            Leon and Buffy watched as the rest of the team make short work of stopping the zombies.  Ten shots to the head… ten zombies down.

Wesker made a panicked run to one of the doors on the opposite side of the room.  One of

the agents yelled, "Wesker, freeze!"    

            Wesker obviously felt that wasn't his best option in this particular situation, since he kept running.  The agent stepped forward, took careful aim, and shot Wesker in the leg.  He went down with a cry of pain.  The agent who shot him rushed over and handcuffed the writhing doctor.  He took off his mask.  Wesker groaned at the sight of his face.

            "Wesker, you sonofabitch, can't say it's all that good to see you again.  You ran off so quickly after our last meeting, I didn't have the chance to speak with you.  I have some things I'd like to say to ya…" The big, reddish-haired man leaned over, whispering something to Wesker, who paled.

            One of the other operatives came over to Buffy and Leon, tearing off his mask.  The man was brown-haired, attractive, and looked a little older than Leon.

            "Leon," the man said, grinning, "Man, are you lucky we got here in time.  Claire called me and told me you hadn't checked in with her last night.  Barry and I were in L.A. checking out an Umbrella facility there, so we thought we should stop by and save your ass."

            Leon was grinned at the man, "Chris, I've never been so happy to see someone in my life."  He grabbed the man and they gave each other a guy-hug, with many slappings of backs.

            The red-haired man, Barry, walked over to them.  Another operative was looking after Wesker.  To Leon, he said, "We told you this plan of yours to check out this place had a couple of flaws, namely, the chance of ending up dead,"  Looking at Buffy, he said, "And how'd you get this poor girl involved?"

            Buffy spoke up.  "Actually, sort of did the involving all by myself.  I stumbled onto a plot between Wesker and Gary over there to do something with this nifty virus of theirs.  Leon and I bumped into each in the sewer."

            Leon looked at Buffy, smiling, "Buffy here contributed to the saving of my butt many times tonight.  Yeah, I would have—"

            Before he could finish, Leon collapsed on the floor.


	17. Chapter 17

"—close call—"

            "—couple more hours… both have been dead—"

            As Leon became aware of his surroundings, he heard snippets of conversation.  He let out a groan.  Man, his whole body was one, big throbbing ache.

            "Leon?  Leon, can you hear me?" came a pleasant female voice.

            Leon opened his eyes, not all the way, just a slit.  The light in the room was painful. 

            "Leon?  It's Rebecca.  Wake up, Leon, you're going to be okay."

            He opened his eyes some more.  He was lying on a bed in a white, sterile hospital-like room.  Standing next to his bed, Chris Redfield, Barry Burton, and Rebecca Chambers were looking down at him with concern.

            "What happened?" Leon said.  He didn't remember anything that happened after the S.T.A.R.S. team had taken out Wesker and the zombies.

            Rebecca, a S.T.A.R.S. medic and biochemist, said, "The virus you were infected with had progressed pretty far, Leon.  You collapsed on the floor.  We were all pretty worried.  Luckily, Barry and Chris were able to find the antivirus in one of Umbrella's labs."

            Buffy.  "What about Buffy?  Is she okay?"

            Barry spoke up.  "She's fine, Leon.  The virus didn't appear to be affecting her as much as it did you.  She got the antivirus in plenty of time."

            Thank God.

            "What about," Leon interrupted himself with an enormous yawn, "Wesker and—" he yawned again.  

            Rebecca smiled.  "Leon, we'll give you the complete update when you feel better.  For now, you need to get some rest.  Being infected with that virus took a lot out of you."

            Leon nodded docilely.  Within second, he was sound asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

_Ding-dong!_

"I'll get it!"  Buffy walked to the front door.  

            She opened it and, when she saw who was standing there, smiled.  "Leon!  I'm so glad you came by.  Come in!"

            Leon grinned at her as he stepped inside the Summers' residence.  The man _was _cute, even all scratched up and bandage-y.  Hey, she couldn't discriminate against the bandaged, since she herself had a rather enormous one on her arm.

            "Looks like you're healin' up pretty fast for someone who was just infected with a deadly virus a couple of days ago," Leon said, looking her up and down.

            She smiled.  "I come from hardy stock, I guess.  We heal fast."

            "I guess.  So, I thought you'd want to know what happened with Wesker."

            "Yeah, what're those crazy kids at Umbrella up to now?  Hey, let's go sit down in the living room."

            "Sounds like a plan."  They sat down across from each other.

            Leon continued.  "Well, you were right about Wesker and his plan to make off with the virus.  For all the noise he made about the advancement of science and what not, apparently he was planning to sell the D-Virus to the highest bidder.  His pal Gary, who very kindly ratted him out, was going to make sure there weren't any security hassles.  Chris and Barry had had dealings with Wesker before, so they knew what he was like.  They weren't surprised by anything the crazy bastard had planned to do."

            "So what's going to happen to him?"

            "Right now, the doctor is sitting in jail.  He's going to be charged with murder, believe it or not.  The S.T.A.R.S. team was able to prove that the soldier zombies were actually Umbrella employees, like your friend John, whom Wesker had been using for test subjects."

            Buffy's eyes flashed at the mention of John's name.  "Do you think the charges will stick?

            Leon smiled cynically.  "Can't say for sure.  But, I suspect that Umbrella just might let the good doctor hang.  Even if the research was performed with Umbrella's approval, they'll, of course, disavow all knowledge of Wesker's escapades.

            "What about the underground lab and the Umbrella facility?  Can't say I really want a virus manufacturing plant in my backyard."

            "The organization I work with is going to take care of that.  With Wesker being charged with murder, my group thinks that giving a heads-up to a couple of newspapers about the illegal scientific research going on in Sunnydale will really put Umbrella in the dog house for awhile.  With any luck, the bad publicity from Wesker's trial, combined with Umbrella's past screw-up in Raccoon City, will force them to shut the facility down."

            "That's a super-sized relief."  Buffy said.  Really, she had more than enough to do, what with all the native evil in Sunnydale.  She'd rather not import any foreign evil.  "So, what's your plan now, Leon?"

            "Another day, another Umbrella facility to take down.  Umbrella has enough money and power that even a screw-up like this one won't be enough to keep them down.  Next time, however, I think I'll hitch a ride with a S.T.A.R.S. team."  Leon paused, then said, "Listen, Buffy, I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for everything and… I know that if you hadn't been there, I'd probably be Leon the Zombie by now and… you were so brave and…"

            "Okay, don't get mushy on me, kid."  Buffy said, smiling.  "We worked together, we're alive, we're not zombies… it's all good."

            Leon nodded, and gave her a cute little crooked smile. "Well, I'd better get going.  I'm driving back to L.A. with Barry and Chris, so…" They both stood.  He approached her uncertainly.

            Buffy was not so shy.  She grabbed him and gave him a hug.  He grunted a little.

            She stepped back and looked at him.  "I want you to be careful, Leon.  Fighting evil is a dangerous business.  Promise me you'll be careful, and, hey, if you give me a call from time to time, I wouldn't mind."

            Leon smiled.  "I'll be careful."  They walked to the door.  "Bye, Buffy.  Take care of yourself."

            "Bye, Leon."

            The door shut behind him.  

            Buffy stood for awhile, smiled, shook her head a little, then walked into the kitchen.  A newspaper was sitting open on the counter.

            "Okay… clerical assistant wanted, full-time, $7/hour…"

THE END


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